


I Love You Too

by kingfishling



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Drabble, Drama, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, To Be Continued
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 11:21:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12556320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingfishling/pseuds/kingfishling
Summary: Francis loves Arthur. Arthur loves him back. He just can't bring himself to tell him.





	I Love You Too

"I love you." Arthur sets his tea delicately on the wooden surface of the table they are sitting at. The cafe is small and crowded, the scent of fresh-baked scones and hot chocolate greet the London crowd as they clamber inside gratefully for relief from the clinging fog of the streets.

He isn't quite sure how they had gotten to this point. Somewhere along the years of constant bickering and fighting, Arthur and Francis had grown close. Too close. They were tired of arguing over nothing, tired of finding new reasons to hate each other.

Recently, Arthur had started to find himself being drawn to the Frenchman's charms. The way he played with his irritatingly silky hair as he thought, how he snorted as he laughed, even how he teasingly called him "Sourcils" and "Angleterre" and "Lapin". _("What does that even mean?" "Quoi?" "That thing you just called me. Source-ills, or something." "Sourcils?" His smile becomes teasing. "It means 'eyebrows'.")_

In turn, he had begun to notice his neighbour stealing glances at him, his smile gentler and wider than he had ever seen it. At first it was small things, a lingering stare across the conference room, a soft touch to his fingers as they passed documents around.

The Englishman grew painfully aware of Francis, how he would go out of his way to be next to him, with him, over him. _(Francis leans over top him, grabbing the paper from Japan. His shirt rides up a bit and Arthur can't help but stare at the sliver of tan stomach.)_

He could have told him to stop. They both knew what was happening. They had known each other too long, had so much bad blood and shared pasts to not recognize the feelings growing in themselves and each other.

But he didn't. Some part of him, however small, didn't want to give up these small moments of… whatever they had. So the tension grew higher. He caught searing gazes and traveling eyes and (though he would never admit it) he gave them in return.

Today, after the meeting, he had escaped as quickly as he could. He needed to breath the damp city air, to focus his thoughts on something other than that arrogant, cocky Frenchman. Of course, France followed him. _("Hey, Eyebrows! Wait for me!")_

They had chatted idly: work, news, the weather, and of course, their little brothers _("Mon petit Matthieu est très beau, non?")_. There was nothing quite out of the ordinary in that. They often had these sort of talks.

Then his companion had remarked on the chill. _("Really, lapin, how do you Englishmen survive in this weather?")_ Arthur had suggested they duck into the small cafe nearby, and now here they were.

And the thing is, looking into the other's eyes (Clear, sincere, painfully uncertain blue), England wants nothing more than to repeat those words to him, to run his hands through the other's golden hair, to kiss him softly and slowly.

But the words get stuck in his throat and he's lost the ability to speak, and his cheeks are burning and oh god Francis is still looking at him and he knows he's lost his chance.

And so he flees.

Standing abruptly, he pushes his chair back, and it squeaks on the linoleum tiles. As he turns, he just catches sight of Francis. He looks so hurt, and the prideful Englishman wants to go back and comfort him and say those goddamn words but he's already slamming the door behind him.

As Arthur disappears into the foggy streets of London, his throat clears, and he finally whispers what he should have said:

"I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> I might continue this someday... For now, it will remain as a badly edited reminder of my failures as an author...
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr! kingfishling.tumblr.com


End file.
